Episode 147 Worth Every Moment
Worth Every Moment
Snuggling. Cerian almost laughs as a drizzle falls inside their train. Blurred lines, indeed.
Not that he complains as Arisanna digs her fingers in his hair and gets lost in his kiss.
Without warning, his eyes open in a stone shelter in the Wildthorne Woods, and he blinks a few times.
Mother and Father speak in hushed voices with Corivos and Rafelis, but it was enough to pull him out of the heartlanding at the worst time imaginable.
Whistling wind, that’s disorienting.
Arisanna hasn’t moved against him, and she’s silent. Is she still asleep?
Memories of her skin against his flesh crowd in on him as he struggles to push aside thoughts of the heartlanding.
“Sanna?” he whispers softly in case she’s still sleeping. She lies facing him, her back to the rest of the room and her forehead against his shoulder.
“Yes?” she mumbles.
“Are you all right?”
“Define all right?”
“That was a little disorienting.”
“A lot disorienting, Cerian. A lot.”
He struggles not to smile at her words as he gives her time to adjust to returning to the real world. He doesn’t say anything. He just listens.
“It would be better to bring a fully trained healer to him than to transport him back to Darlei like this,” Rafelis says. “He shouldn’t be riding.”
They must be discussing Uncle Quilian.
“I would have brought Cadowyn, but he was busy with other patients when I rode out,” Corivos says. “Other patients who matter quite a lot to you both.”
He must be talking about Elowyn and Tharios. Thank the fates they both made it home.
“Well, we should send for someone,” Mother says. “Because Rafelis is right. Uncle Quilian is in no shape to ride.”
Cerian can barely make out Father’s nod before Corivos strides through the open doorway, presumably to send for a healer.
It will be Tharios. If he can walk, you’d have to tie him down to keep him from rushing here to help. Somehow, the thought is comforting. For all Cerian’s grumbling about Tharios, it’s a relief to know Tharios will always come if he’s able.
“And you both need to sleep,” Rafelis says once Corivos is gone. “How long have you been awake?”
“Probably as long as everyone else,” Father says with a sigh.
“The warrior bands are taking it in turns,” Rafelis says. “As should you.”
“Perhaps when Cerian wakes,” Father says. “I won’t...I can’t sleep while he sleeps right now. I need to know he’s protected. Both of them.”
“He’s safe, my king,” Rafelis says. “Every warrior here would protect him with their life.”
Arisanna presses closer to Cerian, and he tightens his arm around her, kissing her hair before sitting up.
Rafelis’s words are touching. And humbling.
Cerian can make this easier on Father, though.
“We’re awake,” Cerian says. “You may rest now.”
Arisanna moves beside him, and he glances her way in time to see her shrugging out of his shirt. He’d argue, but it’s one thing to be shirtless around his family.
It’s another thing to wander around Father’s warrior bands like this.
It’s warmer now than it was last night. Arisanna should be all right. And he can keep her warm with his magic if she isn’t.
“Come talk to us,” Mother says, and Cerian reluctantly rises with Arisanna clinging to his hand.
Clearly, Mother was serious about not keeping him in the dark.
In return for expecting more from him.
A lot more.
He wanders toward them, and Arisanna follows.
“Arisanna, this is Second Rafelis,” Father says. “One of my most trusted elite warriors. You may trust him as well in any situation.”
She nods. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Second Rafelis.”
“The pleasure is mine, though I am humbled by Lorial’s words. I shall endeavor to live up to them.”
Father claps Rafelis on the back. “You’ve proven yourself many times over, Rafelis.”
“Indeed,” Mother says. “Now, here is the situation, Cerian. Uncle Quilian is stable, but he’s not well enough to travel. None of our warrior bands detected any rebel activity during their sweeping of the woods for you. It’s as if Fenoral and his companion have vanished as quickly as they appeared.”
“Is that good or bad?” Cerian asks.
“It’s complicated,” Father says. “We have far more questions than answers. But it means you need to stay near. No wandering, at least not until we have more information.”
Cerian glances at Arisanna. “I assumed as much.”
“Fenoral Teratheros is among the strongest destruction magic wielders in Lostariel,” Mother says. “If you cross him, be prepared to rely on your fire magic, not just your plant magic.”
Father frowns. “He has water magic, too. Perhaps attempt not to cross paths with him at all.”
Cerian nods. “I’m not planning to go hunting for rebels.”
“That’s something, at least,” Father says. “We may need to tie your siblings down.”
Cerian holds back a smile. That was unlikely to be said entirely in jest.
“My princess,” Rafelis says to Arisanna. “Are you injured? You’re favoring one of your legs.”
Whistling wind. Cerian should have thought to ask someone to help her.
“It’s nothing,” Arisanna says. “Don’t worry about me.”
Cerian ignores her. “She has a nasty blister. Will you look at it? Please?”
“Of course,” Rafelis says. “Let’s see what I can do.”
Arisanna sends Cerian the most adorably disgruntled glare imaginable, but she offers a polite thank you to Rafelis as she sits on a nearby chair and lets him examine her foot.
“You may have the bed now,” Cerian says to Father. “You look exhausted.”
“Go ahead.” Mother glances at Father. “I’ll handle everything.”
“Both of you,” Cerian says quietly. “The heartlanding keeps you strong. Don’t...don’t fight it.”
He looks hesitantly at them, and Father laughs. “At least I know you’re listening.”
“I am. Are you?”
Father looks at Mother, but she seems hesitant.
It’s still so foreign seeing her strong. She’s the same mother who welcomed him every time he ran to her, though. Who held him when he climbed on the bed beside her as an elfling. Who whispered so many words in his ear about him being enough.
But who always expected so much. Who asked about his training. About who he faced in the arena and what he learned that day.
He didn’t always wish to talk. But she was always there to listen if he did.
And perhaps for the first time, it truly occurs to him what she sacrificed for all of them.
This. This is who she is. Who she’s always been.
And she gave this up to bring peace. To give Arisanna’s parents younglings of their own.
To ensure Arisanna and Rominy lived.
“What is it, my littlest love?” she says.
He blinks. Everyone is looking at him.
He opens and closes his mouth several times as he searches for his words, but no one rushes him.
“I...I just...” He exhales softly. And rather than worrying about words, he wraps his arms around her. “Thank you.”
She holds him close. And then she whispers in his ear the way she did when he was an elfling. “You are enough, my littlest love. And you were worth every moment.”
“You gave up so much,” he whispers.
“But look at what I gained.” She lets him go and frames his face with her hands before pulling his forehead down to meet her own.
“I want you to stay strong, Mother. Please. Rest. Visit the heartlanding. Be stronger together.”
“He really isn’t an elfling,” Father says softly. “There’s wisdom in his words, Nestraya.”
“I know.”
“Corivos is here. As is Rafelis. As...as am I,” Cerian whispers.
“He’s right, Nestraya,” Rafelis says as he rises. “You will be stronger for the rest you take now, with Lorial. Corivos and I have been guarding Lostariel for you for twenty-three years. We can handle a few more hours.”
Mother laughs, but it sounds like a choked sob, and Father pulls her close, nodding to Cerian over her head.
Then a hand slips into his, and he looks down into Arisanna’s eyes. She lifts onto her toes, and he offers her his ear, but she turns his chin toward her instead, pressing her lips to his right in front of his parents. In front of Rafelis.
In front of the open door.
She may not have considered that, and he makes no effort to inform her. He just returns her kiss, which ends almost before it begins.
But it was real, and it meant something. Far more than any words she could have whispered in his ear at that moment.
“Yes,” Mother says as she tries to hide that she’s crying, but Cerian sees the tears she quickly wipes away. “It was worth it. To see you find your own stronger-together love.”
When Father leads her to the bed, she doesn’t argue. And when she falls asleep in Father’s arms as soon as she closes her eyes, Cerian looks away.
He thought his years spent helping care for her were behind him. But they’ll never be behind him. They’ll just look different now.
“I sent one band back to—” Corivos stops abruptly in the doorway before looking away from the bed where Mother and Father sleep. “How did he manage that?”
“It wasn’t Lorial.” Rafelis claps Cerian on the shoulder. “It was Cerian.”
“Well, I am impressed, Cerian. Well done. I thought she was going to collapse at one point. She’s always been good at hiding when she’s not at her best.”
Cerian glances back at Mother sleeping peacefully on the bed, and Arisanna squeezes his hand.
“We have food,” Corivos says to Cerian next. “When was the last time you ate?”
When did they eat?
“We had apples last night,” Arisanna says. “So it’s been a while. Lead us to the food. We need to keep Cerian’s magic strong.”
“That we do,” Rafelis says. “I’ll stay here and watch over everyone. Go fill your bellies.”
Cerian just shakes his head as they follow Corivos from the shelter into the early afternoon light.
Apparently, not even the present circumstances will keep Arisanna from her compulsive need to feed him.